


The Eyes are the Window to Who Knows What

by tallisartin



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 23:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10707306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallisartin/pseuds/tallisartin
Summary: There are hairs on Archie’s head that have a mind of their own. They point out in different directions and stand tall and proud until Archie runs a calloused palm over them. Jughead absently observes the red strands and is reminded of the matching sets scattered through his eyelashes; some red, some brown, some black.





	The Eyes are the Window to Who Knows What

There are hairs on Archie’s head that have a mind of their own. They point out in different directions and stand tall and proud until Archie runs a calloused palm over them. Jughead absently observes the red strands and is reminded of the matching sets scattered through his eyelashes; some red, some brown, some black.

  
Jughead couldn’t tell you much else about Archie’s eyelashes except that they were longer than any woman’s Jug had ever been close enough to to notice. No, if Jughead even so much as glanced in in the direction of Archie’s face he would get lost in his eyes.

  
Jughead couldn’t tell you much about Archie’s eyelashes, but he could tell you everything about his eyes. In the sun they sang a kaleidoscope of colourful songs; gold dancing with red dancing with brown. If Jughead looked hard enough he could see little patterns and wisps within the iris, almost as if someone had scattered gold dust and left it to set like jelly.

  
In the dark they became murky and deep; almost black. Not in a “cold and unwelcoming” sort of way, but as a dark comfort. Kind of like the moment after you flick the bedroom light off and collapse into the embrace of crinkled sheets.

  
Jughead could tell you everything about Archie’s eyes, and that’s how he knew how he felt when Jughead had put his arm around Betty.  
Betty was crisp and cool and clean. She smelt of vanilla shampoo and her clothes of lavender fabric softener. Her neck was long and slender and soft like white sand on the beach. Her lips spoke riddles against Jughead’s skin and the goose bumps always came to greet her, though Jughead knew the reason why.

  
Jughead loved Betty. He loved her compassion and her strength. He loved how her cheeks were rosy when she’s happy and how her eyes gleam when she’s thinking. But Jughead doesn’t love Betty, could never love Betty, the way he loves Archie.

  
“Wanna go to Pop’s after third?” Archie asked, bumping shoulders with Jughead as he caught up to him in the hallway.

  
Jughead glanced to the side and swiped a stray curl to the side, “You don’t have fourth off, though.”  
Archie grinned, “Yeah, but you do.”

  
Jughead rolled his eyes but felt a mirroring grin spread across his face. He nodded, and watched as Archie’s grin broke into a smile as he turned to find his next class. Jughead could usually focus on Biology, but today he was too busy thinking about that bump on his shoulder and what milkshake Archie was most likely to share.

  
When the bell rang to end third period, Jughead was already half out the door. He made a beeline for the old tree behind the bleaches were he and Archie would hide while cutting class. He was only waiting a minute or two before Archie made his way over, too.  
The pair began walking towards the far oval; they knew the fastest way to Pop’s from every direction. Only, when they got to the turn off, Archie turned the other way.

  
“Dude. Pop’s?” Jughead questioned; gesturing vaguely in the direction of the restaurant.

  
“I’ve got a better idea.”

  
The mischief in Archie’s voice sent Jughead souring back to the days when they were eleven; spending hours in the tree house cooking up brilliant pranks and laughing about how they would never do them. Jughead’s eyes drew towards Archie’s hand rustling in his backpack.  
Within a couple of seconds he pulled a bottle from his bag, a grin as forbidden as the bottle plastered on his face.

  
“Whiskey?”

  
“I got it from Reggie.” Archie’s voice was dripping with excitement.

  
“What about your-”

  
“-Dad’s away overnight, we’d have the house to ourselves?” Jughead could tell his excitement was fading as his explanation turned into a question.

  
The bottle was still half suspended from the bag and neither had taken a step; forward or backwards. Jughead glanced down at the bottle, then up at Archie, and god those eyes would be the death of him.

  
“Come on Jug, loosen up a little!”

  
“It’s a Thursday.” Jughead deadpanned.

  
“There’s no time like the present!” Archie concluded, flinging the bag back over his shoulder and setting off towards his house.

  
“Okay, fine,” Jughead answered anyway, “but you better order pizza.”

  
Two whole pizzas and one whole bottle of whiskey later made for an interesting situation. In which, Jughead was sprawled out on Archie’s bed and Archie was in the adjoining bathroom; head cradled by the toilet seat.

  
“Archie?” Jughead called, but it came out as more of a groan.

  
“I feel like there’s definitely vomit. It doesn’t wanna come out though,” The redhead slurred.

  
Jughead giggled before quickly clutching his own stomach; afraid what the vibrations would do. He took three deep breathes then stood slowly; waiting for the room to stop spinning and then setting off to the bathroom.

  
He tried to rest a hand on Archie’s back but ended up losing balance. Jughead crashed into his friend and then landed on the cold, tiled floor head first with a thud. Archie’s head whipped out of the toilet bowl and he leant over Jughead’s face; his wide eyes shouting illegible questions as they darted over Jughead’s face.

  
“Oh my god, are you okay dude?” His words blended together and his head lolled forward; almost touching Jughead’s forehead.

  
“I will be ‘f you don’t ‘eadbutt me!” Jughead chucked at him, reaching a hand up to rub at the bump on his forehead.

  
Archie chuckled, and Jughead was so pleased at the sound that he chuckled along as well, until they were both snickering together. The laughter must have been too much for Archie because he ended up dropping his forehead anyway; touching it to Jughead’s.

  
The smaller boy froze. The tiles were freezing beneath him but his body instantly bloomed with a hot, red blush. He suddenly felt very sober, or even more drunk, or something other than okay. He swallowed hard, and clamped his mouth shut.

  
Archie’s lips were slightly parted as the smile slowly slipped from his face. His warm, muddy eyes darted between Jughead’s, asking questions that Jughead couldn’t quite interpret. Slowly, he lifted his head from Jughead’s, and the light-hearted smile returned to his lips.  
He stretched slightly and planted a chaste kiss to the swelling bump on Jughead’s head.

  
“Ouch,” Jughead mumbled, screwing his eyes shut momentarily.

  
“I kissed it better!” Archie whined.

  
“Well your kiss hurt!” Jughead retorted, trying to find his arms so he could lift himself from the ground.

  
In a flash, Archie dipped and pressed another kiss to Jughead; this time to the corner of his eyebrow.

  
“Did that one?”

  
Jughead’s mouth fell open and wouldn’t listen to his cries to close it. Archie didn’t wait for an answer before swooping again and pressing his lips to the dip below Jughead’s cheekbone; this time lingering a second longer.

  
“What about that one?”

  
The carefree tone in Archie’s voice was getting fainter, and was in turn replaced with someone more serious; something more hesitant. His pupils were dilated but focused, searching Jughead’s face.

  
“What answer will make you stop?” Jughead’s voice was nothing over a whisper, and the words shivered and shook as they left his mouth.  
Archie’s face was close to his again. His body was still but his eyes were frantic.

  
“Say,” Archie gulped, “say my kisses don’t hurt, and I’ll stop.”

  
Jughead’s brain wasn’t working. His heart thumped angrily in his chest and his ears rung with the words that echoed the room. Neither boy spoke or moved for a long pause, before Archie once again lowered his head.

  
It felt like years before his lips brushed Jughead’s skin. Archie planted the kiss on the corner of Jughead’s mouth, effectively knocking the wind from Jughead’s lungs. Jughead’s lips instinctively came together to try and catch Archie’s, but they were gone before he could react.  
“Was that painful?” Archie tested.

  
Jughead swallowed and met Archie’s eyes darkly, “Excruciating.”

  
With a hurry of movement Archie’s body was crashing into Jughead’s as he reached his hands up to grasp Jughead’s face. He connected their lips with such force that it did hurt and Jughead fought not to wince; not to break the kiss.

  
One of Jughead’s hands scraped up Archie’s back from under his shirt and splayed out on the hot skin. The other reached up to tangle in the red locks of Archie’s hair, keeping him in place.

  
Archie’s tongue darted across Jughead’s bottom lip and it sent tingles racing from the bottom of his spine to the top. He moaned softly, hoping Archie didn’t hear it, but keeling upwards when the larger boy gave one in return.

  
Their bodies were flush together on the bathroom floor and Jughead’s hips bucked forward as Archie raked against him. Archie broke the kiss and sucked in a breath before looking down at Jughead.

  
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He whispered.

  
“We shouldn’t be drunk on a Thursday night either.” Jughead concluded and surged forward, connecting their lips again.

  
He pushed upwards until they were both in a sitting position. Archie’s back hit the wall with a thump and his head collided with the door frame as Jughead fought to keep them connected. He paused momentarily and cupped the side of Archie’s head that he’d hit, absently rubbing at the saw spot while simultaneously writhing against him.

  
Archie groaned, deep and loud, and exposed his throat as he tilted his head back. Jughead took the opportunity and attached his lips to Archie’s pulse. His neck was hot and salty with sweat, nothing like Betty’s, but in every way better.

  
He pressed down gently with his teeth and a small yelp escaped Archie’s lips. The redhead pulled Jughead’s face away momentarily to find his mouth again, and after one, two, three kisses he pulled away enough to say ‘Take off your pants’.

  
Jughead didn’t know how to do that from his sitting position on Archie’s lap, but began fumbling with his belt buckle anyway.

  
‘”Fuck, Jug, come on.” Archie growled, yanking Jughead’s shirt over his head as Jughead finally got his legs free of his pants. The bright yellow light of the bathroom felt unforgiving against his naked body, but the thought was quickly supressed as Archie wrapped a firm hand around Jughead’s dick.

  
Jughead all but screamed as he bucked forward and gripped Archie by the shoulders. His fingers curled into fists around the grey fabric of Archie’s T-shirt and he tried, with jelly arms, to remove it from Archie’s body.

  
Jughead managed to get one of the sleeves free, but didn’t dare disrupt the arm pumping between his legs. The shirt sat bunched around Archie’s neck but neither boy was going to stop to take it off.

  
Archie’s movements became faster and harder as Jughead thrust into his hand, murmuring and groaning in pleasure. His head lolled forward and rested against Archie’s hair, then he curled his whole body around Archie until his head was resting just above his shoulder.

  
“Archie,” Jughead pleaded.

  
“Does it hurt?” The poke was so thick with lust that the humour was hidden, but Archie managed a teasing smile anyway.

  
“No, feels, ah-” Jughead’s nails dug into Archie’s hips, “Feels so good.”

  
Archie reached his head forward and kissed the bare chest in front of him; running his tongue over the sweat-slicked flesh. “Come for me, Juggie.”

  
The nickname pushed him over the edge and Jughead let go with a cry. He yanked Archie’s face up and connected their mouths fiercely as he moaned into Archie’s lips with each thrust.

  
The two boys sat, heavily panting, with their sticky bodies pressed together. Jughead dragged his hand down Archie’s torso and tried to move his fingers below Archie’s waistline.

  
Archie grabbed his wrist and shook his head, “No. That’s okay,” He whispered breathlessly.

  
“Next time,” Jughead promised, returning his hand to the hip it had been stationed on.

  
“There’ll be a next time, will there?”

  
Jughead grinned groggily, “Only if you’re lucky, Andrews.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope ya'll enjoy, feedback is greatly appreciated! Find me at riverfale.tumblr.com


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